Face Time
by cakebythepound
Summary: Michonne and Rick get some alone time during a sleepless night at the church. (Richonne one-shot. Takes place in the realm of Episode 5x03. Fair warning - it gets hot.)


_**A/N: Just a little somethin' I came up with earlier this week. Not gonna lie, some of the feelings I've assigned to Michonne are my own. Particularly, how hot it got up in here when Rick rolled up on Abraham all ready to brawl. Whew. So yeah... this is another one of those "enjoy at your own risk" situations, lol. But I do hope you like! -Ash**_

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><p><strong>Face Time<strong>

The middle of the night was a time for sleeping. Michonne knew this better than anyone. If you're not on watch, you get your rest. It was only logical. So she wasn't sure why she was wide-awake in her sleeping bag, staring at Rick Grimes at 3:00 in the morning. She was supposed to be sleeping. But he was the problem. Every time she closed her eyes, he appeared in her dreams. Her thoughts, conscious and unconscious, were consumed with him. How was she supposed to sleep like that?

So instead, she stared at him, trying to figure out what to do with these thoughts. They always slept near one another, perhaps out of sheer habit by now, or maybe it was because they were drawn to one another. She wasn't sure, and didn't necessarily care at this point. The fact was, they were always close, which was probably why he'd begun to invade her dreams. She wanted him. Badly.

She knew he wanted her too, just by the way he looked at her. She could feel his stare, whenever she had her back to him. It seemed he was mesmerized by her ass, she deduced a long time ago. She would always chuckle to herself when she left him in a room, knowing he was watching. Sometimes even added a little sashay to her step, just to keep him on the hook.

And hell, she couldn't be mad at him for as much as she stared back. He had no ass to speak of, but whenever he walked into a room, her eyes fixated on his crotch. It was like a big flashing sign was attached to his jeans. She would eventually find his eyes, but without fail, her eyes flitted downward first, gauging how big the bulge was that day. It tended to be bigger in the mornings, she noticed. And she often had to stifle a smile so as not to give herself away. He was just so goddamn sexy, she thought.

Tonight, Rick was in his protective mode, and Michonne was turned on beyond belief. He'd just gotten into an altercation with the new guy, Abraham, and she had hardly taken her eyes off him since. The guy was significantly bigger than Rick, but he couldn't have cared less. He'd resolved to not let Abraham leave with that bus, and he was going to make sure that didn't happen by any means necessary. She was positive Rick would've beat his ass. In fact, she wished Glenn hadn't broken it up. What a sight that would've been.

It was funny to see him now, looking so angelic in his sleep. He was lying on his back, his lips slightly parted as he breathed softly. Nothing like the lethal man that had just concocted a plan to brutally kill five people. "Rick," she finally decided to try and wake him. She had no idea what she would say once he was awake, but she couldn't keep watching him sleep anymore. It was bordering on creepy.

His blue eyes fluttered open and instantly turned to a frown as they tried to adjust to the darkness. He popped up worriedly when he realized it was Michonne that'd waken him. "What's wrong?" His eyes darted to where Carl was fast asleep, then to Judith, and then back to Michonne. "Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she quickly assured him in a whisper. "I just... I wanted to talk." She couldn't believe that was the best cover she could come up with.

He looked around the crowded sanctuary and offered to take to one of the offices so they could speak in private without disturbing anyone. She accepted the invitation and the two of them carefully tiptoed out of sight. Bob and Sasha were in the office on the left, so he led her to the one situated to their right, which they were using to house their supplies.

Rick took a seat on the cluttered desk while Michonne sat in a chair across from him. His eyes settled on the odd expression she was wearing before groggily asking her, "What's on your mind?"

"Sitting on your face," she mumbled wickedly to herself. She had to shake her head at how ridiculous she was being. How rude she was being. "I couldn't sleep," she finally said out loud.

He smirked back at her. "So you wanted some company?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," she smiled.

"Anything you wanna talk about in particular?"

_You, inside me_, she thought to herself. "No. Not really."

"You ready to do this tonight?"

He'd come up with a plan to execute the Terminans, and it was supposed to go down less than 24 hours from then. It was grim, but it was necessary, and she knew it. She shrugged. "We gotta eliminate the threat."

"Yes, we do," he nodded. He couldn't help but notice that her eyes were avoiding his gaze, focused more on his pants than anything else in the room. She did that sometimes – eyed his dick like he wasn't going to notice. But he enjoyed that she got her eyeful, not caring whether he caught her. He couldn't say he didn't do the same.

The image of her ass often pervaded his thoughts. It mostly happened back at the prison, but even in the quiet moments on the road, when she'd found them and it was just the three of them for nearly two weeks, it was all he thought about at night. That ass, riding him into oblivion. He tried to avoid beating off to these images, just because it was nothing like the real thing, but sometimes he had to, just to keep the situation under control. Otherwise, Michonne might've gotten more than she bargained for when she snuck her peeks.

"What are you thinking about?" Michonne rattled the silence to ask him.

"You," he returned bluntly. He had become accustomed to their platonic relationship. He really enjoyed it, in fact. But it would've been a lie to act like he wasn't up for more. He'd been dancing around his attraction to her for over a year now, and apparently she had too. If she was choosing to bring it to the forefront, he was more than willing to join her.

"What about me?" she narrowed her eyes at him cautiously.

He looked down at his belt and began to remove it. "You said you wanna sit on my face, right?"

She flashed a smile that was one part nervous, one part excited. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't want me to hear it," he rationalized with raised eyebrows as he threw his belt to the side. "Get over here."

She rolled her chair across the room until she was directly in front of him, eye level with his dick. She could tell that it was hard already, bigger than she could ever remember it being, and she couldn't wait for it to be inside her. She stood from her chair, finally meeting his gaze and noticed that his sky blue eyes were darker than usual. They showed just how much he wanted her.

He grabbed her chin and pulled her close, hesitating only slightly before taking a dive for her mouth. He'd always wanted to know what she tasted like. In his head, it was always cinnamon for some reason. The way it smelled. But reality was more of the wine they'd had with their dinner. It was appropriate too, because he planned to get drunk on her tonight.

Without breaking their kiss, she effortlessly climbed on top of the large desk, pushing him backward so that he was lying flat and she was straddling his lower abdomen. He fumbled to remove her belt and unbutton her pants with his fingers as his only guide. "Hold up," he whispered, pulling away from her lips momentarily.

She did exactly that, lifting her body from his just long enough for him to peel her pants from her ass and down her thighs. He pulled them all the way off once she sat back down. He rested one hand on her ass and squeezed excitedly, having waited for this moment since the day they met.

"Was it everything you thought it would be?" she grinned at the sensation, leaning back in to kiss him again.

"Yes," he answered simply, inhaling her lips once more. His hands moved up her tank top, pausing when he reached her bra to pull her tits out of it. They were round and full, a perfect fit in his hands. In fact, she was the ideal woman to him – slender, but curvy; strong, but soft. He couldn't believe he'd managed to wait this long.

She softly moaned into their sloppy kiss as his hands fondled her nipples, squeezing and flicking the rigid peaks as she writhed against him. She pulled off her top so he could get a good view of what she was working with, and then slid back so she could get the same of him.

"You're goin' the wrong way," he smirked.

Her first retort was a frown, unsure of what he meant, but she quickly realized what he was telling her to do. Speechlessly, she inched her way up his body until she was positioned directly over his lips. His beard tickled the underside of her thighs, causing her to giggle softly.

He was too turned on to care what she was laughing at. He used one hand to pull her panties to the side, and the other to spread her slit wide open for him. His tongue plunged into her wet center and her whole body clenched around his face. He almost couldn't breathe, but he was glad to have elicited that reaction from her.

"Jesus Christ," she hissed at the sensation. She could feel his tongue circling her clit, torturously slowly. Then he would run his fingers along her folds as he tongued her core. She felt like she was going to explode. She was trying to keep her breathing steady so she wouldn't scream, but a few shaky moans had escaped her lips and he seemed to only be encouraged by it. They both knew the exact moment she had come, and he was happy to lick her clean. She fell backward onto his body to recover from her orgasm.

"Hey," he softly called out to her, amused by her reaction.

She truly couldn't wait for whatever was about to come next. She quickly rolled off of him so that she could finally get those damn pants off. An excited shiver went through her body when she grazed his crotch and realized he was rock hard. "You better fuck me like you mean it," she implored him as she hurriedly unzipped his jeans.

"You didn't even have to ask," he smirked, standing from the desk they were laid upon. He moved quickly to free his throbbing dick from its captivity, barely giving her a chance to see it before he pushed her back onto the flat surface beneath them.

He grabbed her by the leg and pulled her ass to the edge of the desk, keeping his eyes locked on her as he worked. With one swift move, he ripped her panties from her body and penetrated her with a forceful push, both of them grunting at the delightfully harsh sensation. He pumped slowly at first, getting her used to the feel of him inside her, but she began to nod, relaying that she could handle more, he moved faster, harder. He fucked her like he meant it.

Soon, they were banging so hard that the desk had begun to move, making more noise than either of them, but Rick didn't have the mind to stop, or even slow down. If they got caught, so be it, he thought. He was too mesmerized by the bounce of her tits, too turned on by the wet sound of his dick pounding into her. Just about anyone could've walked in and he wouldn't have stopped.

"Oh fuck, Rick," she whimpered almost loudly, also careless about who could hear them. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and she used her feet to try and bring him even closer, if that were possible. He was filling her completely, and still, she wanted more. This was even better than she imagined it being, and what she'd had in her head was pretty damn good. "Don't ever fuckin' stop," she begged him quietly.

He couldn't make that promise. He was ready to come all over her, in fact, but he held out for as long as he could, enjoying bringing himself to the brink without actually releasing. The build up was the most fun. He would slow down to a glacial pace and then pick it back up at his pleasure, just to keep her guessing. He could feel her body quivering in response. "Come on," he encouraged her, licking his lips excitedly. He wanted to see her orgasm on her face.

She bit her own bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut as that rumbling sensation hit her core. She felt his hands on her nipples, and with his cock was hitting the perfect spot every time he thrust into her, she simply could not take it anymore. She was crying out in ecstasy as her orgasm took her body captive. She had never been a squirter, but it seemed Rick Grimes had changed that.

Her head fell back in exhaustion while he continued to ride her to his own finish line. He'd planned to pull out before climaxing, but his body wouldn't let him. His dick wanted every second it could have inside the heaven that was Michonne's pussy. Breathless, he halfway pulled his jeans back up and took the spot on the desk beside her. It wasn't comfortable, but he wanted to lie there naked with her the rest of the night.

"Look what you've started," he joked, turning his head to catch a glimpse of the side of her face. "I hope you're happy."

"I'm quite happy," she grinned, opening her eyes to the ceiling. "I don't know why we didn't do this sooner."

"Why did you choose tonight?"

"I dunno." She shook her head and then turned to face him too, getting lost in his stare. Even like this, quiet and sated, he was still so sexy to her. "I thought it was your fight with Abraham that turned me on, but I think it's just you."

He smiled softly. "I'm not sure I ever would've made the first move. I'm glad you did."

"Me too," she winked at him, beginning to playfully fan herself. "Although I'm mad you just tore my only pair of panties. Like we got it like that."

He laughed quietly to himself. He was somewhat counting on that. "Looks like you'll have to go commando," he shrugged. He knew the thought of that could get him through just about anything.

"Or maybe I'll take your boxers and _you_ can go commando."

"Oh, you're trouble," he realized, with pure amusement written all over his face. "Nothin' but fuckin' trouble."

"No point in denying that," she returned, smirking at him knowingly. "But I'm pretty certain I've met my match."


End file.
